Atticus said it would probably be worth ten dollars, knife, chain and all, if it were new. Did you swap with somebody at school? he asked.

Oh, no sir! Jem pulled out his grandfathers watch that Atticus let him carry once a week if Jem were careful with it. On the days he carried the watch, Jem walked on eggs. Atticus, if its all right with you, Id rather have this one instead. Maybe I can fix it.

When the new wore off his grandfathers watch, and carrying it became a days burdensome task, Jem no longer felt the necessity of ascertaining the hour every five minutes.

He did a fair job, only one spring and two tiny pieces left over, but the watch would not run. Oh-h, he sighed, itll never go. Scout?

Huh?

You reckon we oughta write a letter to whoevers leaving us these things?

Thatd be right nice, Jem, we can thank emwhats wrong?

Jem was holding his ears, shaking his head from side to side. I dont get it, I just dont get itI dont know why, Scout . . . He looked toward the livingroom. Ive gotta good mind to tell Atticusno, I reckon not.

Ill tell him for you.

No, dont do that, Scout. Scout?

Wha-t?

He had been on the verge of telling me something all evening; his face would brighten and he would lean toward me, then he would change his mind. He changed it again. Oh, nothin.

Here, lets write a letter. I pushed a tablet and pencil under his nose.

Okay. Dear Mister . . .

How do you know its a man? I bet its Miss Maudiebeen bettin that for a long time.

Ar-r, Miss Maudie cant chew gum Jem broke into a grin. You know, she can talk pretty sometimes. One time I asked her to have a chew and she said no thanks, thatchewing gum cleaved to her palate and rendered her speechless, said Jem carefully. Doesnt that sound nice?

Yeah, she can say nice things sometimes. She wouldnt have a watch and chain anyway.

Dear sir, said Jem. We appreciate theno, we appreciate everything which you have put into the tree for us. Yours very truly, Jeremy Atticus Finch.

He wont know who you are if you sign it like that, Jem.

Jem erased his name and wrote, Jem Finch. I signed, Jean Louise Finch (Scout), beneath it. Jem put the note in an envelope.

Next morning on the way to school he ran ahead of me and stopped at the tree. Jem was facing me when he looked up, and I saw him go stark white.

Scout!

I ran to him.

Someone had filled our knot-hole with cement.

Dont you cry, now, Scout . . . dont cry now, dont you worry he muttered at me all the way to school.

When we went home for dinner Jem bolted his food, ran to the porch and stood on the steps. I followed him. Hasnt passed by yet, he said.

Next day Jem repeated his vigil and was rewarded.

Hidy do, Mr. Nathan, he said.

Morning Jem, Scout, said Mr. Radley, as he went by.

Mr. Radley, said Jem.

Mr. Radley turned around.

Mr. Radley, ahdid you put cement in that hole in that tree down yonder?

Yes, he said. I filled it up.

Whyd you do it, sir?

Trees dying. You plug em with cement when theyre sick. You ought to know that, Jem.

Jem said nothing more about it until late afternoon. When we passed our tree he gave it a meditative pat on its cement, and remained deep in thought. He seemed to be working himself into a bad humor, so I kept my distance.

As usual, we met Atticus coming home from work that evening. When we were at our steps Jem said, Atticus, look down yonder at that tree, please sir.

What tree, son?

The one on the corner of the Radley lot comin from school.

Yes?

Is that tree dyin?

Why no, son, I dont think so. Look at the leaves, theyre all green and full, no brown patches anywhere

It aint even sick?

That trees as healthy as you are, Jem. Why?

Mr. Nathan Radley said it was dyin.